


Reminisce

by NyxErchomai



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:51:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6974242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxErchomai/pseuds/NyxErchomai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky prepare dinner, talk about old times, and everything is good for once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reminisce

**Author's Note:**

> neinnonay said: Steve x bucky: One of them tries cooking. general domestic fluff

“What do you mean you can’t cook?” Steve asks, perplexed. “You used to cook all the time when we were younger.”

Bucky shrugs, but doesn’t look up from the cutting board. “Yeah but it was easier back then. We boiled everything, remember? Now there’s like, microwaves and shit.”

Laughing, Steve has to agree. It took him a while to get the hang of modern cooking, too, but he won’t admit that to Bucky. He’s enjoying his small victory.

“Shut up and help me,” Bucky grumbles, tapping the countertop with the tip of the knife. “You can cut the onions.”

Steve moves into place beside him, shoulder brushing against Bucky’s. They exchange a small glance, a tiny smile pulling at the corners of Bucky’s mouth.

By the time Steve finishes dicing the onion, tears are streaming down his face. “Fuck...!” he whines, rushing to the sink as his vision clouds. He can hear Bucky laughing as he douses his eyeballs in water, and he flicks his sopping hand in the direction of the noise.

“Hey!” Bucky’s indignant shout disintegrates into laughter when Steve glares at him, eyes red and puffy.

“Fuck you,” Steve says into the dish towel, flinging it at Bucky when his face is dry. Bucky catches it easily, still grinning widely.

“Aw, don’t get so emotional,” he teases, eyes crinkling. When Steve grumbles, he latches an arm around Steve’s waist and pulls him close enough to kiss him lightly on the nose. Steve’s blinks, his cheeks warming, but Bucky has already turned away.

“Alright, can you cut the chicken now? It should be defrosted.”

Steve slides the chicken from the microwave, prodding it. “It’s done.”

“Christ, remember when it would take all day?” Bucky says with a wry smile. It’s getting easier to talk about the way things used to be.

“Yeah, and then it’d take a whole damn day on top of that to cook it.” Steve lays the strips across the cutting board and starts dicing it, humming softly.

Bucky watches him for a moment, smiling gently. Steve raises an eyebrow and turns to him.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch me, or are you going to help?”

Bucky smirks, rakes his eyes down Steve’s frame, and shrugs. “I like the view.”

Steve looks away, fighting a grin. He will _not_ blush, he will _not_ blush.

“You’re blushing,” Bucky says softly, sidling up behind him and wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist.

His cheeks burning even more, Steve coughs. “Someone might see us,” he says pointedly, meaning the other ex-Avengers who are all in their various rooms.

“So?” Bucky murmurs, his mouth by Steve’s ear. “It’s the 21st century, Steve, no one cares anymore.”

Bucky steps back as Steve straightens, giving him room to turn to face him. The blush still lingers on Steve’s cheekbones, and his eyes are bright.

“It’s just… new,” he says, his hands on Bucky’s hipbones. “We could never be this open before.”

Bucky leans forward and kisses him. Steve leans into the kiss, smiling. When Bucky pulls back, he’s smiling too.

“Forget microwaves, the internet, fast cars – forget all of it,” he says. “Kissing you is the best part of this century.”

“That’s cute,” Sam says suddenly from the doorway. “But, clearly, you haven’t kissed me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky flicks Sam with the dish towel in response, btw.


End file.
